The Lion's Lamb: Book 1
by SweetSunnyRose
Summary: "I know 'tis very different from Anvard, is it not? It seems so…unhappy. But you know, Béla, the Lion hath sent us hither. Whatever His will, we must follow. Perchance someday He will grant us a return, until that day..." The beginning of The Lion's Lamb saga, in which Lysandra first meets the Pevensies and Prince Caspian. Movie-verse. A.U. Edmund/OC
1. Chapter 1

Here we are! The beginning has arrived. A few quick notes before we get started. I like to know the ages of the characters when I read, so I will list them for you here. As the ages change or other prominent characters join, I will list the ages accordingly.

(For the majority of this chapter) Lysandra-13, Caspian-15, Dr. Cornelius-looks to be 60 or 70

Also, the name of Lysandra's horse, Béla, is pronounced Bay-law (not Bella).

Just a reminder, this is movie-verse (so the characters look as they do in the latest films) until we reach the castle raid where things will change just a bit.

**Disclaimer: **Narnia and all it's natural inhabitants, travelers, and countries belong to C.S. Lewis. I can only lay claim to Lysandra, her mother, the horse Béla, and the small sheep herding village of Hyrden.

* * *

**The Lion's Lamb**

**Book 1 Chapter 1**

DONG-da-Ding-da-DONG! DONG-da-Ding-da-DONG!

The bell was tolling frantically as she raced through the stone halls. _"Where is he?"_ she wondered _"And why has he returned? The Professor and I did not go through the trouble of getting him out, only to have him return for death."_

Lysandra paused briefly in her thoughts and gave a mental sigh. She shouldn't judge. It had been several days since she last saw him fleeing. Perhaps something had happened since then. Perhaps he had good reason to come back. _"Or rather, maybe he __**thought**__ he had a good reason to come back."_

Well, for whatever his reason or for whatever he was thinking, she had to help him escape once more. But! She had to find him before the guards did.

"By Thine grace, mighty Lion," she whispered softly as she rounded the next corner. She hardly had time to smile before jumping into a full run again. He, not the Lion but the one she was looking for, was just down the hall running towards her. Lysandra had just enough time to register the shock on his face before she grabbed his arm and pulled him into a nearby deserted room.

The room was no more than a closet really. There was hardly any room to move and there was no lit candle or even a small window to provide light. The stone walls were lined with wooden shelves, and the shelves were full of linens. In the corner there was an old wooden bucket and an even older, and grungier, mop. _"We must be near some more sleeping quarters,"_ Lysandra thought.

"Lys, what are you…"

She meant to go for his mouth, but because it was dark she aimed too high and ended up smacking him in the nose with the butt of her palm.

"Ow!"

"Shhh," she hissed. "And I crave thy forgiveness. 'Twas mine intent to cover your mouth."

"Why? What are you…Mmmm"

There was suddenly a dim golden glow in the closet. Lysandra was unsure where the light was coming from, but she didn't pause to ponder it. She simply took advantage of the dim glow and properly covered his mouth.

"Would you be quiet before you get us both caught and slain," she whispered harshly. She continued after a small sigh. "You are not supposed to be here. You should be on your way to Archenland. I was leaving tomorrow to follow after thee. What were you thinking in coming back?"

He grabbed her wrist and removed her hand from his mouth. "We are taking the castle."

"Tush!" She squeaked softly. "You jest! No one has ever taken this castle. It cannot be done."

"Lys…"

"Hark now! Do you hear that?" They both paused and listened to the bell that was still sounding. "Your plan—and I am assuming you did _have_ a plan—has failed. You need to leave this castle forthwith. Thine uncle will not hesitate to kill you if he finds you."

"I am not leaving without Peter and Susan," he said shaking his head.

"P-Peter and S-Susan?" She stumbled over the names as her thought process came to a sudden halt. _"The Peter and Susan?"_ she wondered. Could it really be them? Or was it another? But who would bear such odd and…noble names such as Peter and Susan. She had no time to fully contemplate this now. "I am sorry, but they are in the Lion's care now."

"You mean, they are…they have died so soon?" He moved in closer and the fierceness in his eyes gave Lysandra a new reason to stumble over her words.

"I—I do not know. But I do know that you will die if you do not leave now!"

He shook his head. "Not without them. I cannot…I shall not leave them."

"Please—"

"Do not say it, Lys. I implore you, do not."

Lysandra looked the young Telmarine Prince firm in the eye and with great resolution she said, "Trust me."

XOXOX

**10 Months earlier…**

Lysandra coaxed her horse up the steep incline. The eastern horizon gleamed with the rising sun. She had only been up for a short hour, but already the day seemed too long. Both horse and rider were tired and worn. It had been a long month and a longer journey, but Lysandra knew they had to be close. Any day now they would arrive at their destination. Any day.

At last they reached the top of the incline, and Lysandra felt she could nearly shout for joy—if she weren't quite so tired that is. As it turned out "any day" was today. Lysandra looked down the hill and along the trodden road and smiled with relief, sitting before her, though still a good distance away, was the busy town of Beaver's Dam and the King's Castle. As she looked at the town a bit longer though, her smile quickly faded. It was closed in by cold, stone walls and it had this strange foreboding feeling. It did not seem like a very happy city.

"There it is, Béla," Lysandra said as she rubbed her steed's neck. "The King's Castle in Beaver's Dam."

Béla gave a snort of disapproval.

"I know 'tis very different from Anvard, is it not? It seems so…unhappy. But you know, Béla, the Lion hath sent us hither. Whatever His will, we must follow. Perchance someday He will grant us a return, until that day…I suppose this is home now. Though, I do not think it will ever truly be my home."

Lysandra sighed despairingly and Béla gave his consent.

"Come, Béla. We have tarried long enough. We must continue onward."

Lysandra gave a gentle squeeze with her legs and Béla began walking steadily downhill. It was another few hours, nearly mid morning, before they reached the outer city wall. Lysandra dismounted Béla just before they entered; she could tell by looking that however cold the stone walls appeared Beaver's Dam was busy enough on the inside, and she knew she could maneuver her way through the crowd with greater ease on foot than on horseback.

Beaver's Dam was similar to Anvard in that it was composed of three city levels: lower, mid, and upper. The lower city was composed of numerous houses and buildings made of clay and wood with thatched roofs. The familiar smell of the blacksmith's fire, and the cobbler's work, and the butcher's shop pervaded the streets and Lysandra's nose alike. Hardly a person at all noticed Béla and Lysandra as they passed through, and those that did offered a friendly smile and a cheerful 'good morrow.'

Lysandra and Béla passed through another wall into the mid-town. There wasn't much difference between the mid-town and the lower city except that the buildings were made of finer clay and wood, and a few of them had flat stone roofs instead of thatched. There were various merchants lining the streets selling their wares to the passersby. There were more glances towards the horse and girl but fewer friendly greetings.

Lysandra and Béla kept moving forward towards their final destination. They passed through yet another wall that separated the mid-town from the upper. Here the buildings were made of stone, not clay, and there were no thatched roofs. Many of the buildings had two levels. Lysandra knew the lower level housed the shops and the upper level was where the families slept and ate meals; at least, that is how the multi-level buildings in Anvard were. The streets of the upper-city were crowded with soldiers and courtiers, not the common peasants like the lower levels. Here, Lysandra suddenly felt out of place. She became increasingly more aware of her dirty and rugged state. While living in the wild for a month it is rather difficult to find a decent place to properly clean; one's difficulty increases when they do not like large, flowing, bodies of water. Every eye seemed to turn Lysandra's way as she walked by and every nose seemed to turn up. Beaver's Dam may have been similar to Anvard in its layout, but that was all they seemed to share. In Anvard, it was not uncommon to see lower-city folk shopping or selling in the upper-city or visa-versa.

At last Lysandra and Béla came to the end of the upper city and the High Street, and before them stood a long, narrow bridge leading into the castle. Lysandra could hear the sound of rushing water and she tentatively approached the edge of the bridge and looked over. As she feared, the castle was surrounded by the river and a very rocky shore line. She cringed and stepped back into the middle of the bridge. Lysandra absolutely detested large bodies of water. As though sensing her sudden, paralyzing fear, Béla gently shoved the back of Lysandra's shoulder with his head; he was now urging her forward. He walked up to stand beside her and she curled her hand into his snow white mane, and he began walking forward with her in tow.

After what felt like hours they finally reached the end of the bridge, only to come to another bridge: a draw bridge which had no sides. Standing before the draw bridge though were two guards with large, pointed spears and they crossed them before the pair barring the way.

"What business hast thou in the castle?" one of the guards asked.

_"Really? I have to talk while standing on a bridge over water? This is not going to be good." _Lysandra opened her mouth and tried to answer the guard, but no sound would come out.

"Speak, you mute," the guard barked. "What business hast thou in the castle?"

"I—I—I…"

"Speak or turn back now."

_"By Thine grace, mighty Lion."_ Lysandra heard, or rather she felt, a gentle purring deep within.

"I have come to see Professor Cornelius. He is expecting me," she said at last.

The other guard pulled out a scroll from somewhere, Lysandra didn't see where, and unrolled it while somehow still holding his spear crossed before him. "He is on the list," the guard said after several silent seconds.

"You may pass," the first guard said and together they snapped their spears back to their sides.

Béla began walking once more and Lysandra followed along, still holding on tightly to his mane. It took Lysandra a moment of standing in the middle of the courtyard to finally regain her senses and loosen her hold. She immediately combed her fingers through Béla's mane and gave him a loving rub in thanks. Béla nuzzled his nose into her hand in response.

After giving Béla his proper thanks Lysandra looked around at her new surroundings. She was in the castle courtyard, and what a courtyard it was. Though it was large, easily twice the size of the front courtyard of Anvard, it was entirely made of stone. There were several stairs, doors, balconies, windows, and archways, but there wasn't a green living plant anywhere in sight. The courtyard of Anvard only had stone paths surrounding a grass court with beautiful flowers and a majestic tree. The Anvard courtyard contained the essence of life; the Beaver's Dam courtyard was as cold as the stone it was made of.

Lysandra was beginning to see just how different Beaver's Dam was from Anvard.

After a month of traveling she finally stood in the shadow of the castle. Now, all she had to do was find the good professor. The only problem was, she had absolutely no idea where in the castle he might be. Lysandra tried asking the few people in the courtyard if they knew where to find the professor, but they all shook their heads no. Either they really did not know where he was, or they just weren't telling her. She could have gone back and asked one of the guards if they knew where she could find the professor, but that would mean crossing back over the drawbridge, and she really did not want to do that.

Béla whinnied and nudged the back of her shoulder again. Lysandra turned to face him and rubbed a hand up his nose.

"Do not fret, Béla; we shall find the professor," she said consolingly, though more for her own need than Béla's. "He must be here somewhere. Even in a castle this large, there are only so many places one can hide."

"You are looking for the Professor?" someone suddenly asked.

Lysandra turned around in a start to find a boy standing behind her. Though, truthfully, _boy_ would be a misconception. He was closer to her age than that of a young boy's. He had dark brown hair that fell about his eyes and tapered down to his shoulders. And his eyes were a deep brown that any girl, who didn't have her wits about her, could easily become lost in. It's a good thing Lysandra wasn't one of those girls. He was clothed in finer clothes than Lysandra, but really some of the peasants were clothed better than she. And he had a horse with him; his horse was as black as Béla was white.

Lysandra nodded her head. "Yes. Do you know him?"

"I do," the boy replied.

"Great. Do you know where I might find him, then?"

"He is probably in his rooms."

"Wonderful. Many thanks, good sir, for your help." Lysandra turned from the boy as though she were about to march off to the professor's rooms, but she remained standing where she was.

"You do not know where his rooms are, do you?" the boy asked with an amused tone.

Lysandra turned back to look at the boy again. "I must admit, I do not know the way. This is my first time visiting the castle."

He chuckled. "I can walk you there, if you would like?"

"I would like that actually, yes. Many thanks again."

The boy nodded his welcome before turning his eyes to Béla. "Though first, we must see to our companions. Yours seems to be a noble steed."

"Indeed he is. He will be even mightier when has been properly groomed, fed, and has received great rest." Lysandra rubbed Béla's neck as she gave him her promise once more.

"We can see to that. What is his name?"

"Béla."

"Welcome, Béla, to Beaver's Dam. I am pleased to meet your acquaintance." The boy reached out a hand to rub Béla's nose, and Béla quietly let him.

"Thy steed, too, appears mighty and righteous. What do you call him?" Lysandra asked.

"Destrier," the boy replied. "Yes he is a good steed. Some would say he is even fit for a prince."

"I may readily agree with them."

The boy smiled curiously at Lysandra; there was something very different about the girl that stood before him. Her dress, roughly made from the cheapest of fabrics, was a pale blue, faded from the sun and long wear, and it was tattered and torn around the edges. She held no rank higher than peasant, and yet her horse almost certainly was of noble lineage. And though she was only a common peasant, she had come calling on Professor Cornelius, the Prince's personal tutor. All of this indeed set her apart from the other maidens of Beaver's Dam, but still there seemed more. There was something about her face, a light in her eyes that one did not often find in Narnia.

"Were you going to show me to the stables, before leading me to the Professor?" Lysandra asked.

"The stables?" the boy questioned.

"Our horses. We were going to see to them before going to see the Professor."

"Right. My apologies, fair maiden. It seems distraction befalls me easily this day."

Lysandra dropped her eyes to her feet while the boy scanned his eyes around the courtyard as though looking for someone.

"General Glozelle!" he called out at last. Lysandra lifted her head in time to see an older man begin to approach. Like the boy, the man had dark hair and dark eyes, but instead of a clean face, he had a full beard and mustache. He appeared rather gruff, but then an acclaimed general such as he would be.

"Take Destrier to the stables and see that he is groomed and fed," the boy ordered handing over the reins of his horse. "And take Béla here as well, and see to it that he is given the finest treatment. He has had a long journey to be sure."

Then, to Lysandra's horror, the General bowed and said, "Yes, Your Highness."

"Highness?" she asked. "_You_ are Prince Caspian?"

The boy smiled and nodded hesitantly. "I am."

"Oh!" Lysandra promptly curtsied and bowed her head. "I crave your forgiveness, sire. I did not know 'twas you. I am not from these parts, or surely I would have known sooner."

"I did think as much," the Prince said.

"How did you know?" Lysandra asked after rising from her curtsey.

"Your clothing is…different."

Lysandra looked down at her simple blue dress, and blue netted sash, and worn ridding boots. She shrugged her shoulder. Sure, it was a bit dirty, all of her was, but most of the women back in Archenland wore something similar to this.

"It is not right for a gentleman to point out a woman's clothing so negatively," she said.

"No I was not…I mean…I only…" The Prince paused to regain his composure. "You are right. I Now I crave your pardon once more."

"'Tis given, milord" she said with a smile.

"So, if I may ask, where are you from?"

"A long way from here," she simply replied.

"And what brings you to Beaver's Dam?"

"I have come to see Professor Cornelius."

"Oh!" The Prince cringed. "That is right. He is going to be most angered, I fear; I am terribly late for my morning lessons. Come, we must be gone."

Prince Caspian began leading the way and Lysandra quickly followed after him, with her small bag in tow; she managed to take it from Béla before the General led him away. The Prince continued to inquire of her as they walked, but Lysandra kept most of her responses brief and vague. When he asked her name though, she did give him that much. The inside of the castle was as different from the inside of the castle of Anvard as their courtyards were. Lysandra felt a cool chill on her arms and thought she might want to reattach her long sleeves if it was going to be that cool all the time.

At last, after several twists and turns, they arrived at what Lysandra assumed was the Professor's rooms. The room itself was a mess. There were piles of papers and books everywhere. And amongst the mess was a short and round old man. He was dressed in burgundy clothes to which his long grey beard stood out. When he looked their way Lysandra saw that his face was very wrinkled and a pair of eye glasses sat low on his nose.

"You are late," he said upon seeing them. Lysandra thought he was talking to her and she stumbled for words.

"I…"

"I am sorry, Professor," the Prince said as he stepped around Lysandra. "It was a beautiful morning and I thought I would take Destrier out for a quick ride."

"A quick ride?" the old Professor asked skeptically. "Sit down and take up your literature scroll and began reading where we last left."

"Yes, Professor." The Prince promptly began doing what he was instructed to do.

The Professor looked back to Lysandra. "And who are you?"

"I am Lysandra, and I have come for work. I was told you were looking for assistance. I believe word was sent of my arrival."

"Yes, well, let me see your hands then." Lysandra dropped her bag and held her hands out for him to take. He turned them over several times. "Hmm. They have seen work before. I suppose they will do. Can you organize, arrange, and straighten up?"

"Yes, good Professor."

"Then get to work." He pointed to the piles of papers and books around the room. Lysandra stared blankly at the various piles. "Do not just stand there, child. Clean."

Lysandra gently kicked her bag to the side before heading towards the first pile. This was going to take awhile, but the Lamb never said anything about the way being easy.

XOXOX

It was only a few hours later when a cart of food was brought in, but to Lysandra it felt like several long hours. Behind her, Lysandra could hear the Prince and the Professor begin to eat while she remained hard at work. She was hungry for most of her journey so being hungry wasn't anything new. That, however, did not stop her stomach from voicing its protests.

"Professor, it sounds as though someone is need of food," the Prince said quietly, though Lysandra could still hear the laughter in his voice. There were a few intense seconds of silence and somehow Lysandra knew they were both staring at her. She quickly turned around.

"Oh, no, I am well. I do not need anything."

"Nonsense," the Professor said. "Caspian is right. Come, sit and eat with us." He offered a wide smile.

"No, truly, I do not need anything. I have gone much longer without any food."

"Well, you do not have to go so long anymore. Come, sit with us and have some lunch. Your work can wait until later."

"I—I thank you." Lysandra set down the pile of papers she was currently sorting and joined them at their small table. The Professor promptly poured her a cup of tea and she accepted it graciously.

"Please forgive my old mind child, but what is your name again?" he asked.

"Lysandra, Sir," she replied. "Oh, and here, I have a note addressed to you from my King. It explains again my reason for coming here." Lysandra quickly handed the Professor the note before taking a small bite of food.

His eyes skimmed over the note before saying, "Lysandra. A lovely name."

"For a lovely maiden," the Prince added quickly. Lysandra did well not to choke on her food at that moment. She looked at the young Prince curiously, but she could not tell if he was jesting or not.

"You are too kind," she said rather softly and awkwardly.

"Caspian is right," the Professor said. "A lovely name for a lovely girl. You have much of your mother's countenance; she had a great and rare beauty too."

"You knew my mother?"

"You are Lysan's daughter?"

"Yes." Lysandra nodded vigorously. She did not expect to find someone in Narnia who knew _her_ mother.

"Then yes, I knew your mother, but…that was many years ago, before you knew her I shouldn't wonder."

"I did not think anyone would know of my mother here. And you think I have her face?"

"I know it child; I should have seen it sooner. I am sorry I did not."

Lysandra smiled and wrapped her fingers around the necklaces that hung around her neck, while her vision clouded with tears.

"Thank you, Sir. A girl can receive no greater compliment than to be told she has a countenance like that of her dear mother's."

It was peacefully quiet for a moment before the Prince said, "I am sorry for your loss."

"You knew my mother too?"

"Nay," he replied delicately. "But I could tell…How long has it been?"

"My mother died almost six months ago, Sire."

"Then you knew her well?"

Lysandra nodded my head solemnly. "She was my greatest companion."

"My mother died when I was five; I barely remember her," the Prince said softly.

"Children these days," the Professor grumbled. "Whoever heard of speaking about death while eating? It is not well, I tell you."

Lysandra smiled softly and the Prince said, "You are right Dr. Cornelius. How dreadful we are! We should speak of other things at once to put far from our minds the matter of death."

"Then what should we speak of?" Lysandra asked.

"You," the Prince said.

"Me? There is nothing of me to speak on."

"Nonsense! There is much of you to be said. Why you only arrived here today, we know nothing of you but your name. Let us begin with your home. I assumed you were from Beruna, but you claim your home is far from here and Beruna is only a two day's ride. So, Lysandra, where do you call home?"

"Hyrden."

"Hyrden? I have never heard of that town. Is it north of Beruna or to the west of here?"

"Hyrden is not a town and it is not in Narnia. Hyrden is but a small sheep herding village beyond the castle walls of Anvard in Archenland."

"Archenland? You rode all the way from Archenland? How did you come?"

"There is but one path from Anvard to Beaver's Dam; I came by the pass and through the woods."

"The woods?" Prince Caspian repeated in shock. "None dare go through the woods. The Ghosts did not capture you?"

"Ghosts?" Lysandra asked with a disbelieving laugh. "Your Highness, I am Archen. We do not believe in ghosts."

"Your belief in them does not alter their existence."

Lysandra glanced between the young Prince and the learned Professor. The Prince honestly believed there to be ghosts in the woods, and he seemed to think it pure madness that anyone would choose to willingly pass through them. The Professor, though, was grinning and hiding a glimmer in his bright eyes. Somehow Lysandra knew that he thought the idea of ghosts as preposterous as she.

Still, she did not refute the Prince's statement. She merely said, "I suppose I cannot argue with that logic."

After all, she knew that just because Telmarines like the Prince did not believe in the Great Lion it did not alter the fact that He existed.

XOXOX

They spoke a little more after that. Lysandra told them of her long journey while they finished eating. The Prince still found it odd that Lysandra would choose to pass through the woods and he asked several times why she would do such a thing. She simply shrugged and told him that after her mother died she came looking for work. She was not about to tell him her true reasons for leaving home; she was not going to tell him that the Lamb had sent her. Once they all had their fill, the Professor declared that it was time for the Prince to get back to his studies, and Lysandra went back to work sorting through the Professor's texts. That is how they spent the remainder of the day.

When early evening came by the Prince grudgingly left the Professor's rooms. Lysandra worked for maybe an hour more before the Professor told her to stop.

"It will all be there for you to work on tomorrow. And I do apologize for the mess. I did have it all put away, but I cleared that room out for you."

Then he led her to a side chamber. Inside it was a simple room with a simple bed and a simple wardrobe.

"I know it is small, but…"

"No, it is wonderful, Professor, really. It reminds me of my room in Hyrden."

"Well, I am pleased you like it."

"I adore it, Professor. Thank you."

"And as long as you are living here, you may call me Cornelius. Now please, while we have a moment, will you tell me more of this dream you had?"

"Did King Nain not tell you about it?"

"He briefly mentioned it in his note you gave me, but he did not go into great detail for fear of interception."

"Oh, well I can understand that. I suppose if the Telmarines are paranoid enough to believe there are ghosts in the woods, then they would not care much for my dream."

The Professor chuckled. "No, I think not. Now tell me, was it Aslan who spoke to you."

"Oh! Nay, good sir. No, it was not the Lion. It was His Lamb."

Lysandra then proceeded to tell the Professor all about the strange dream which was her true reason for leaving the grazing mountains of Hyrden for the stoned courtyard of Beaver's Dam.

XOXOX

"And so you left, without further question?" the Professor asked when Lysandra's story was complete.

"Well, I had to. The Lamb said it was the Lion's will, and whatever His will, I must follow."

The Professor sat back in his chair and smiled. "Your faith in the Lion is very strong."

"I am Archen. We have not forgotten; even if the Telmarines do not believe, or even if Narnia has forgotten, we have not. Songs of The Four, and King Cor's mighty escape from Tashbaan, and his brother Corin Thunderfist are still sung in the halls of Anvard."

The Professor gave a merry smile and a hearty chuckle. "It is refreshing to hear of such faith, especially in one with only thirteen years." But then his face turned quite firm and his voice grew low as he leaned forward across the table. "But that is enough talk of that, such words would not be welcomed here. You must be careful whom you divulge such information too."

For a moment Lysandra was terribly frightened and could not respond. The Professor smiled softly and sat back in his chair once more.

"You look as though you could use a nice washing. You will find a basin with water and some soaps in that room there." He pointed to the proper room. "Dinner should be here by the time you are finished."

"Thank you, Professor," Lysandra said with only the slightest quiver in her voice.

Without further pause, Lysandra took up her bag and headed to the room indicated. Inside she found all the Professor said there would be. It had been over a month since her last real washing. After washing, Lysandra reentered the Professor's main chambers in fresh clothing and found dinner waiting. The Professor and Lysandra ate together and discussed what her work for him would entail. Again, he apologized for the mess, but she assured him it was nothing compared to her mother's disorganization. After dinner, Lysandra found herself very tired and she retired for an early night.

And thus was Lysandra's first day in Beaver's Dam.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Perhaps I shouldn't have posted this yet, since I didn't keep the promise to myself and finish the chapter I was working on. However, I couldn't resist posting this in honor of Skandar Keynes 21st birthday (today) even though his character Edmund is not seen in this chapter, nor will he be seen for a few more chapters yet.

Anywho...There you have it. I do hope you enjoyed it, if not feel free to let me know. Hope you all have a fantastic day!

~SweetSunnyRose


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: **These first few chapters are going to be centered around Lysandra and Caspian. It's really all about building their friendship at the moment. I do hope you enjoy!

* * *

**The Lion's Lamb**

**Book 1 Chapter 2**

"Caspian, come hither!" Lysandra called out.

It was a fair summer morning, a little more than a month since her arrival at Beaver's Dam, and Caspian and Lysandra were enjoying a pleasant ride outside the city walls. Cornelius had given them the day to do just that. It had taken a full month, but Caspian and Cornelius had finally convinced Lysandra to use their names and not their titles; though, occasionally she slipped back into habit, especially when it came to the Prince.

"What have you found, Lys?" Caspian asked as he jogged over to join Lysandra by a strange plant. Whereas it took her a month to call him Caspian, it only took him a week to begin calling her Lys, as her mother had.

Lysandra pointed to the plant at her feet. "Trilo-berry."

"What?" Caspian wrinkled his face in confusion.

"Tilo-berry," she said again. "Do you not know trilo-berry?"

"It appears I do not."

"Forsooth! I cannot believe my ears." Lysandra dropped to her knees before the plant. "This is trilo-berry, Caspian. It grows over all of Hyrden; though, I have never seen the berries so radiant this late in year. They have usually lost their luster by mid April."

"Are you certain it is the same plant?" Caspian asked as he knelt beside Lysandra. She tenderly fingered one of the leaves, feeling the rough, vein-like underside and the smooth top-side. She carefully inspected the bright red berries and saw their many tiny hairs.

"Indeed, 'tis the same; of that I doubt not." Lysandra glanced up at Caspian and smiled softly before turning her eyes back to the plant. "It is found anywhere in Hyrden; most had a bush or two in their gardens. 'Tis simple to grow and requires little tending. You find it most often in the fields, though; it surrounds the grazing pastures."

"Why?"

"The herders planted it there."

"Why do they do so?"

"Well because…" Lysandra was about to point out the herders' obvious reason for planting trilo-berry but then she recalled that Caspian didn't know anything about the plant. And that's when a wicked plan came to mind.

"I will show you," she said as she plucked one of the leaves from the plant and crushed it between her finger and thumb. Then she extended her hand towards the Prince. "Here, smell."

Caspian tentatively leaned forward and sniffed. He instantly regretted his actions. His face turned vaguely green and his cheeks went hallow as he jumped up to his feet. He took several steps away from the plant and coughed violently. Lysandra chuckled softly in amusement, but then the stench reached her own nose and she too coughed. Lysandra quickly took the water pouch which hung on a leather strap around her waist and poured a good amount into her hands. She scrubbed furiously, though she knew that would do little against the smell. Eventually she too had to stand and back away from the plant.

"Ugh! What…was…that?" Caspian asked slowly.

"'Tis simply abhorrent, is it not?" Lysandra replied as her eyes began to water.

"Why anyone would allow such an abomination to grow their garden, I cannot imagine the reason?"

"Sheep…" Lysandra coughed. "Sheep have an astounding sense of smell; it is many times stronger than yours and mine. We only smell it when the foliage is crushed, but sheep, and many other creatures, smell it regardless. Sheep shan't go near it. Herders plant this around the grazing pastures to keep the sheep contained and only keep watch over a single entrance."

"How…ingenious of thy people."

Lysandra laughed. "I am sorry, Caspian. It was a horrible thing for me to have done, but I could not fight the temptation. Now, might I see a blade?"

"Why do you want such a weapon?"

"Nay, not a weapon, a blade for I do not have one of mine own. A small knife will do." Caspian looked reluctant to hand her a blade. "Please, Caspian. Do you not trust me?"

"I trusted thee a moment ago."

Lysandra bit her lip to keep from laughing again. "I said I was sorry, and truly, I am. I pray you, Caspian, might I see a blade?" Caspian was still a bit hesitant, but he did hand her a small blade in the end. Lysandra quickly knelt by the plant again.

"What are you doing? Lys, no!" he protested.

"Be calm, Caspian," Lysandra said as she began to carefully cut off some of the berry branches. "As awful as the crushed foliage smells, the berries are rather delicious. You crush them, soak them in water, and drink the juice it makes. It has a delightful tangy-sweetness and is very common in Hyrden. 'Tis why so many grow the bush in their garden. The bark can also be quite useful for various ailments."

Lysandra took her netted sash off and gingerly placed the branches on it, before tying the corners together to make a small basket. When she turned back around to look at Caspian though, she saw that he still appeared to be rather upset. She sighed heavily. Now she felt really bad.

"Caspian, I am earnestly repentant. 'Twas foolish of me to do such a thing and I—I am terribly sorry. I beg your mercy and I pray that you are angry with me no more. You are…You are…" Lysandra hesitated as fear began to fill her heart. Caspian was her friend, the only friend she'd ever had. If she lost his friendship she could not bear to stay in Beaver's Dam, and then she would disappoint the Lion. One foolish mistake could ruin everything. Lysandra's eyes began to cloud with tears again.

"Lys…Lys, I am sorry," Caspian said softly as he quickly closed the distance between them. He took one of her hands in his and Lysandra looked up at him. "I am sorry. You apologized; I should not have stayed upset, because now I have upset you."

Lysandra shook her head and smiled feebly. "I am well."

"But I have upset thee."

"No more than I deserve."

"You do not deserve it at all. I beg thy forgiveness."

"Of course you are forgiven, Your Highness…I mean, of course I forgive you, Caspian. We are good. All is well."

"Wonderful! You are too good a friend to lose over something as foolish as anger."

Lysandra's smile grew wider. "You consider me a friend?"

"Of course! Do you doubt it?"

Lysandra shrugged and shook her head. "I have never had a friend before."

"Never had a friend?"

"Not really, no. 'Twas only mother and I in Hyrden." Lysandra moved over to a spot they had picked out earlier as a place to sit and rest.

"Was thy mother not important in the village though?" Caspian asked as he sat beside her, recalling some of the stories she had already told him concerning her mother.

"She was. She was the village healer, and people came to her when they needed healing, but other than that…they mostly stayed away."

"What reason did they have for doing such a thing?"

Lysandra remained silent. _"Should I tell him what the villagers said about my mother? Can I tell him what I suspected to be true? Or would that change his opinion of me?"_ Lysandra wondered.

"What of thy father?" Caspian asked, changing the subject. "You have not spoken of him. Where was he while you lived in Hyrden?"

"My father? My father died many moons ago, Caspian, before I was born. I never knew him, and Mother never spoke of him. I used to ask about him, but Mother would always pause what she was doing before smiling sadly. Then she would say, 'When you are older, Lysandra—'that was the only time she would call me Lysandra '—I will tell thee all about thy father.' I could see how it pained her to even think of him; so, eventually, I stopped asking, and she never told. To this day I do not know anything of him, not even his name."

"I did not know my father well either. He died of grief not a year after my mother passed. But at least I knew his name, and I knew who he was. He was King."

There was a moment of still silence between the two friends. Neither of them knew how to comfort the other. At last Lysandra said, "I think I would rather not know my father than to know he was King."

"Why? I cannot imagine not knowing who my father was."

"My reasoning is simple. If I knew nothing of my father then I would not be burdened with the knowledge that he was King, and I would not have to worry about being King someday myself."

"You would never be King, Lysandra," Caspian said very seriously and cruelly. Before Lysandra could take offense though he added with a smile, "You would be Queen."

They both laughed softly.

"Is it frightening," Lysandra said after awhile, "knowing that someday all of Narnia will be under your command and that you will be king?"

Caspian paused before answering. "It is a bit daunting, yes, I admit it. And I believe the day will be here before I wish it. I have little to fear though for I will have mine uncle's wisdom to guide me; I plan to keep him on the council."

"What do you mean? I thought your uncle was king now. Dose he not have to die first, for you to be king?"

"Mine uncle is only Acting King; really, he is not king at all, though he makes everyone use kingly titles with his name. Unless the people request otherwise, only a Caspian can be king. Mine years were too few in number when father died to become king then, so Miraz graciously filled in as Acting King. When I have come of age, he will retreat and I will be king. I know little of ruling a country though, so that is why I will keep mine uncle on the council. He knows more about ruling than I, but pray, do not tell him I said as much. I do not want him thinking little of me."

"In faith! I would not dream of revealing such secrets. I give you my word."

Secrets. Because that's what friends did. They shared secrets with one another. Caspian had just told Lysandra one of his secrets. _"Perhaps…I should tell him one of mine."_

"Caspian, may I…may I confide in you something…a thing I have not told another before?"

"Truly, Lys. Just as I know I can confide in thee."

Lysandra nodded her head and bit her lip nervously.

"Pray tell, Lys, what troubles thee so?"

"Idonotthinktheywerewed," she said in a rush before she lost her courage.

"What?"

It was already out. She had to explain now. "My parents, I…I do not believe they were joined in marriage. I think…I think I was born out of marriage."

It was silent for several seconds, and Lysandra knew she had made another mistake. That is, until Caspian very calmly said, "Why would you say such a thing?"

"You are not… You do not…" He didn't sound or look upset at all, and Lysandra was left speechless.

"Lysandra, whatever thy mother's actions may have been, I could not, will not hold them against thee. Thou cannot take fault for thy mother's actions. But I must ask again, why do you think your parents were not joined in marriage?"

Lysandra shrugged, relieved that Caspian did not change his thoughts of her but unsure of how to tell him why she believed what she did.

"'Tis…Well…Not only did my mother not speak of him, but none spoke of my father. I inquired of some of the herders once, but they only offered me this look of…of pity and disgrace and told me to continue my work. Then there is the fact that none liked my mother's company. She was Hyrden's sole healer so the people came to her when they needed her, but even then the women would not let their husbands or their sons come to her alone; 'twas as though they thought she would influence them in her ways.

"The women spoke poorly of her too, when they thought I could not hear. I was not dropping eaves, I assure you; I only happened to be around when they did not know. They said things of her character, things I ought not repeat. And even when she fell ill they still spoke poorly of her. They said…" Lysandra fought against her tears. "…They said, 'There is thy proof. The Lion's judgment has befallen her and now…'"

"Lion's judgment?" Caspian asked suddenly.

Lysandra froze in horror. She was so caught in her story and emotions she wasn't thinking about what she was actually saying. _"How could I have let something like __**that**__ slip through?"_

"I-I-'Tis an Archen phrase. It does not…"

"Dost thou mean the lion Aslan, from the Old Tales?"

Lysandra shook her head, but her wide eyes were betraying her. "I did not say that."

"But it is what thou meant. In the Old Tales, Narnia and Archenland were great allies. Talking beasts would often pass into Archenland, and even the Kings and Queens of Old went there."

Lysandra was still shaking her head. "I-I do not know what you are talking about."

"I can tell you are lying, Lys. You do know."

"No. No I do not."

"Lys, do you…Do you believe in Aslan?"

"I-I-I…" Lysandra stuttered. She could deny anything else he asked of her. She could deny the existence of the Four. She could deny the love of her mother if he asked her to. But she could not deny Him. She would not deny Him. Lysandra stopped her trembling lips and tightly clasped her shaking hands, and she looked the young Telmarine Prince firm in the eye.

"I do," she said. "I do believe in the Lion, and there is nothing you can say to me to make me believe otherwise. I am wholly His."

Caspian's astonished eyes did not leave Lysandra's face, and her fearful eyes did not leave his. On the surface she appeared calm and in control, but inside she felt everything caving in. She'd heard of the Telmarine ways. She'd heard of how they had conquered Narnia and slaughtered its natural inhabitants, the Beasts, the Fauns, the Centaurs, the Dwarves, and the Dryads. She knew of what they did. Lysandra knew she was likely to die now, and she was going to wait for it. She wasn't going to turn in fear. She was the Lion's, and He was with her.

"Lys, I…I can hardly believe it."

"Well, 'tis true and you cannot change it. I am His and He is with me," she said more for herself than anything else.

"Lys, I… Marry! What wondrous revelations!"

And then Caspian laughed. He laughed loud and vibrantly. Lysandra sat gaping at him. She was prepared for death. She wasn't prepared for laughter.

"Lys, I cannot tell thee how filled with joy I am that you believe in the Lion."

"You are not…You are not…I am not…" Lysandra was speechless once more. She had no idea and no preparation for how to respond to his rapturous laughter. She wasn't even sure why he was laughing. Was he laughing at her? Did he think her a fool for believing in the Lion?

"This is splendid!"

"It is?" she asked.

"Yes! Hello! Did you think I would be angry? Or that I would…"

"That you would slay me? Yes. Or send me to someone who would. I have heard of the Telmarine cruelty. I have heard of how your ancestors conquered Narnia, and of the Narnian lives that were lost."

"Lysandra, those were mine ancestors. They are not me. I have always hoped that Narnia would be restored to what it once was, where Talking Beasts roamed freely, and there were Centaurs and Dwarves, and everyone believed openly in Aslan."

"You—you have?"

Caspian nodded vigorously and for yet another time that morning Lysandra found herself incapable of speech. So, instead of trying to speak she focused on her breathing, to get it under control again. As feeling slowly began to return to her extremities, she's not entirely sure when she lost feeling in the first place, she realized that for the second time in less than a year she had come face to face with death and death had passed her over. A laugh of relief escaped her lips before more laughter ensued; before long, Caspian and Lysandra were both laughing loudly.

"Lys, this…this is joyous! I am so glad you believe. Nurse once told me the stories of Old Narnia. I thought we were the only two who believed, but then Dr. Cornelius came to the castle. And now there is you. There are four of us."

"And all of Archenland too," she said. "Well, most of Archenland. I cannot speak for the whole country; there may be one or two doubters."

"A whole country of believers," Caspian said with awe. "Someday this country will believe again. When I am king, I will send out parties to search for any Old Narnian that may yet live, and I will extend to them the hand of fellowship and peace."

Caspian and Lysandra sat out on the Narnian country for an hour or so more. She told him Narnian tales from Archenland and he told her of how he planned to bring peace between Narnians and Telmarines. Neither of them knew for sure if there were even Narnians that still lived, but they both hoped. Their friendship grew immensely that day as they shared their secret desires for Narnians. When it became early afternoon, they called their horses back, they had been grazing freely nearby, and raced back to the castle.

XOXOX

Lysandra walked Béla slowly into the stone courtyard; Caspian and Destrier were already there. The Prince rested languidly on the fountain, made of stone like all things else in the courtyard, with a coy and cheeky grin.

"I am the victor," he said with just as much bravado. When he saw that Lysandra was not smiling though, his expression suddenly changed and he stood up. "What is wrong?"

Lysandra simply shook her head and began leading Béla to the stables, too angry to speak.

"Lys? What have I done?" the Prince asked as he followed after her. When she still did not respond he continued. "I did not take thee for a poor jester."

That got to her, and Lysandra whirled around. "What!"

"That seems to me the only explanation. We were racing and I came out the victor, and now you will not speak with me?"

"You came out the victor because I refuse to trample the citizens with Béla, whereas you have no qualms with galloping through the city without stopping to care for the people in your path."

"No one was harmed. They knew to get out of my way."

"Why? Because you are Prince and they are nothing but lowly commoners?"

"No. Because I was on a galloping horse. The citizens of Beaver's Dam are not fools, Lysandra."

"Why should they be otherwise when their Prince is a royal fool?"

"Why has this angered you so?"

"You have no idea, do you?"

"Pray tell, enlighten me." Caspian tried to hold back his anger, but it was beginning to surface.

"You have no idea what it is like to be on the other side of that bridge, to be one of those commoners. Did you even see the people you nearly trampled? Yes they were wise enough to move, but you hardly gave them a fair chance. I was delayed simply because I chose to be courteous and take my time. King Nain would never run his horse through the city without caring for his people."

"King Nain? Who is this Nain? I have never heard his name in my Narnian History lessons."

"That is because he is not a part of Narnia's history. King Nain is the reigning king of Archenland who resides at the Castle of Anvard. He is a good king and a righteous man. He earnestly cares for his people and would never run his horse through the city. He would stop to help the weak carry their load or offer a loaf of bread to the orphaned child."

Lysandra exhaled heavily.

"I am sorry for being so angered, but I…" Lysandra shook her head. "You will be king one day Caspian, but you must decide the sort of king you will be. Will you be like that of your ancestors who wiped out an entire nation? Or will you be the sort of king like King Nain, who earnestly cares for his people?"

Caspian was still for a moment before he nodded his head thoughtfully. "You are right, Lysandra. I did not give a second thought to the people in the city. It will not be that way again. I do not want to be like mine ancestors; I want to be a good king; an honorable king. Will you assist me?"

"Me?" Lysandra was taken aback. "What can I do?"

"You can instruct me in the ways of King Nain; help me make the decisions he would make. After all, you seem to know him well."

"Nay…" she shook her head slightly as she began to lead Béla to the stables once more. Caspian walked alongside her with Destrier. "I do not know King Nain well."

"But thou spoke so highly of him, as though you were certain of his actions."

"In truth, those thoughts are just that. They are how I believe King Nain would act. I never actually knew him. But Mother did; she always spoke highly of him. And I believe he cares for his people because when Mother fell ill, he was her sole visitor."

"How did thy mother know him?"

"She worked for him once. She was a healer in the castle before I was born. King Nain had a daughter who was very ill, and mother was her healer. Though mother could not prevent the Princess' death, she provided the Princess with great comfort. King Nain was always appreciative of her efforts, and called on her whenever someone in the court of Anvard was ill."

"And he came to thy mother's bedside when she was ill?"

Lysandra nodded her head. "His guards were not pleased about it, and mother tried to send him away; they were all worried the illness might catch. He only stayed for a short time, but when he left I saw a look in his eyes. He knew he would never see her well again, and it saddened him."

"And what did the Queen think of his visit to thy mother?"

"The Queen thought nothing of it, for she could not think. She has been dead many years. She did not survive the child bearing of their son, Prince Leon."

Caspian said nothing more after that for they had reached the stables and went about the process of securing their horses in. The stable boys offered to take over the securing of Destrier, but Caspian refused; the stable boys didn't even glance Lysandra's way. She rubbed Béla's neck down as she thought again of how good a man King Nain was; Béla was truly a noble steed.

"Pray tell, when did the Archenland Queen die?" Caspian asked after they had both finished with their horses and decided to leave.

"'Twas many years ago, before I was born."

"So it was before the Princess died? How long before?"

"I am not certain. A few years, five at most. Why do you ask?" Lysandra inquired of Caspian curiously, but he said nothing. Lysandra studied him closely for a minute or two before she saw his reason.

"No. No you cannot possibly think…No," she said fervently.

"It is possible, Lys. If she died years before you were born and your mother worked in the castle at the time of your conception…"

"No, it is not possible, Caspian. To say that my mother…" Lysandra lowered her voice to a whisper. "To say that my mother had relations with a man out of marriage is one thing, but to imply that my king had so little honor I will not accept that. He is a good man. I will not call to question his prudence."

"Lys…" Caspian began to argue but was interrupted by the boisterous call of his uncle.

"Caspian!"

Lysandra gave a little jump at the loud call but Caspian seemed unfazed by it.

"Good morrow, mine Uncle," he said as both he and Lysandra turned to look at the approaching lord. With him was the general who took Béla to the stables on the first day. Glozelle is what the Prince had called him.

"Morrow, good Prince? The morning hours have long left us; it is nearly nightfall," King Miraz said. Lysandra found this statement to be rather odd and very incorrect. It was hardly past noon. She chose, however, not to bring light to that fact before the acting king.

"Where have you been all day?" Miraz continued.

"I was out riding, Destrier. Professor Cornelius gave me the day to do so," Caspian replied.

"So you were granted a reprieve from thy studies, and thou chose to pass thy time gallivanting in place of attending to more courtly affairs?" Miraz chided lowly. Lysandra could see Caspian's face fall as his fears began to surface. She could not rightly stand to see her friend hurting so; so, she did the only thing she could think of in such a short time.

"The good Prince came out riding with me, your Majesty," she said. When Miraz and the general glanced her way Lysandra gave a low and respectful curtsey before continuing with her lie. "The good Professor sent me to fetch a rare herb, and when the good Prince saw me riding out alone, he thought it best to accompany me for protection's sake. I had no other protection with me, Sire."

King Miraz narrowed his gaze as he stared at Lysandra, but she did her best to give no sign of falsehood.

"A rare herb, say you? What herb?" Miraz asked.

Lysandra held up her netted sash full of berries and stems. "Trilo-berry, Sire. The bark is used for many ailments and the berries can be eaten or stewed."

Miraz carefully and reluctantly looked over her sash. "Trilo-berry? I have not heard of it."

"And you know a great deal of the healing arts?"

Miraz was silent for a moment. "Nay. I cannot say that I do."

Lysandra almost let out an audible exhale, but she withheld it. She glanced up at Caspian to find that he seemed more at ease. She took that to mean that she was helping.

"Who are you?" Miraz asked suddenly. "Are you the _Professor's_ newest…servant?"

Lysandra did not like the way he said "Professor" or "servant;" it was as though he doubted the qualities of the first and thought the latter was more slave than anything. She bit her lip to hold back her offense.

"I am Lysandra, Sire, and I work for the good Professor, yes."

"You are not from these lands, is that also correct?"

"'Tis true, Sire. I am from Archenland."

"What was thou lineage in Archenland?"

"My mother was the healer Lysan, and my father was a herder in Hyrden." Another lie perhaps, but he didn't have to know the truth.

"The healer Lysan of Archenland?" At this the face of both the general and the acting king seemed to turn very strange. Miraz gave a one–sided smile and turned his head to the general, whose face seemed to have paled and elongated.

"Do you know the name?" Miraz asked the general.

The general exchanged a pointed look with Miraz, but curtly replied, "No."

"In truth? Think on it, my friend. Healer Lysan of Archenland. Do you know the name? It is a very _curious_ name that one would not _easily_ forget."

Again the general replied in the negative; his voice was low, firm, and cold, while the one-sided smile of Miraz remained. Lysandra gave a questioning look to Caspian, but he only lifted a shoulder to say that he didn't know what was going on. Lysandra was growing uneasy and did not want to risk the lie making itself known.

"I should be away; the good Professor will be in want of his herb," she said. Miraz turned his head back to her but he still had that smile, and she liked it even less. Lysandra turned to Caspian. "Many thanks, good Prince, for your valiant protection; it will be well remembered. Fare thee well, your Highness." She curtsied to Caspian before turning back to Miraz and giving a curtsey to him and the general. "Your Majesty. Good General."

As Lysandra hurried towards the Professor's suites though, she could not get that haunting smile of Miraz out of her head. Nor could she forget what Caspian implied about her mother and King Nain. It couldn't be. Could it? And yet, what Caspian had said did seem to make a bit of sense. King Nain was, after all, very kind to her.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Trilo-berry is modeled after _Rhus trilobata,_ whose common names include: sourberry and skunkbush. It's leaves have a very strong scent when crushed sometimes scene as medicinal or bitter, yet disagreeable enough by some to be called skunkbush. This plant has historically been used for medicinal purposes. The bark can be chewed or brewed into a tea for cold symptoms, the berries eaten for toothache or gastrointestinal pains, and the leaves and roots boiled and eaten for many complaints as well. The berries are edible and can be baked into bread, added to porridge or soup, or steeped to make a tea or tart beverage similar to lemonade.


End file.
